What Had to be Said
by JeanieBeanie33
Summary: Neville finally gets to tell Harry what he's wanted to say since the beginning, what had to be said, before the end. NOT SLASH


"_Just in case they're – busy – and you get the chance –"  
_"_Kill the snake?"  
_"_Kill the snake," Harry repeated.  
_"_All right, Harry. You're okay, are you?"  
_"_I'm fine. Thanks, Neville."  
__But Neville seized his wrist as Harry made to move on.  
_"_We're all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?"  
_"_Yeah, I –"  
__The suffocating feeling extinguished the end of the sentence; he could not go on. Neville did not seem to find it strange. He patted Harry on the shoulder, released him, and walked away to look for more bodies.-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, pg. 696 Amer. Edition, copyright J.K. Rowling, 2007_

What Had To Be Said

Ever since Neville Longbottom was a small boy, he remembered how his visits to his Uncle Algie were ones of great adventure and great excitement. He remembered how his Great-Aunt Enid would hug and kiss and fuss over him, and how she would hug and kiss and fuss over Gran, and she likewise, but he always remembered how Uncle Algie would greet him. Algie was eccentric to say the least, in looks and personality: wild dark hair cut short so it was almost frizzy, glasses, dentures, and a loud laugh that made Neville always smile.

So when Algie laughed as soon as he saw Neville, Neville laughed back, and he would ask, "So, what story do you have to tell?" And he never accepted anything less than some anecdote or short retelling of something that had happened to Neville, and he listened with rapt attention, because although Algie had no kids of his own, he knew that they liked for their words to be heard. Then Algie would tell a story of his own, perhaps about Neville's father, and Neville would always find himself hanging on to every word, even as he was filled with envy that his uncle had a story to tell, and he didn't.

All his life Neville had wanted to tell Algie something great that he had done, something no one else could tell him, something that wasn't an embarrassing escapade.

Now, nearing his eighteenth birthday, Neville finally had something to tell.

He knew Harry didn't plan on coming back, that night when the war ended. He didn't know when he realized this, or how he could be so calm about it, but the thought came lucid, clear, almost tranquil: _He's going to give himself over._

He wasn't surprised. Harry had always been the paragon of bravery, honor, and sacrifice, even before Neville had met him. And Harry had always known it, even before he'd learned he was a wizard and there was a dark lord that had killed his parents and wanted him dead more than anyone else in the world, even Albus Dumbledore (the one man who could always see through him, and when you want to be a feared dark lord, the people who aren't afraid of you must go first). Harry hadn't given a thought to it, even though Neville knew he must have been scared when he'd found out the truth, and had come to Hogwarts, to an entirely new world, to unconsciously begin his long journey to finish what Voldemort had started.

It had started his first year, when he was only eleven, and Hermione and Ron were there, so they could testify to it. They didn't know Harry well enough then to know that while he was scared going through the room of fire to face Voldemort and his loyal follower, he was prepared to do what was necessary – to die if need be, even though he had no idea what dying was. What child does? Death is glossed over in stories and legends, either by the narrator or by the listener, and so it seems like a glorious adventure when you're bathed in warmth and firelight and the feeling of being home, but when the shadows close in and you're alone and you realize how much you're going to miss, Death is never that easy or casual. It's downright terrifying.

Neville knows this all to well, because he faced this realization, this fantasy breaking down and shattering into pieces at his feet, this mind-numbing, horrific letdown (not beautiful at all) – when he was fifteen years old and had flown to London with Harry. He went for a reason he didn't even know, just that Harry had to go there, and wherever Harry wanted to go, and he needed people to go with him, that's where Neville would always go. He loved Harry like the brother he'd never had, like the brother that protected him from bullies and loneliness, the brother that viewed himself as a normal boy.

Neville knew better. He wasn't the smartest man in the world, and perhaps not the bravest, nor the strongest or wittiest, but he knew that a person like that, a boy who would willingly face death at age eleven, was someone who was one in a million. He was a person that was a man worth following, a man worth fighting with, because as long as Harry was there, everything would turn out all right. Harry would make it that way in his own manner, even when he wasn't there.

But what Harry didn't know, or at least fully comprehend, was that people would do that for him. He didn't realize that the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville, Luna, any member of the order, house elves, centaurs, hippogriffs, half giants…they'd save him too. Even if it took their lives, as long as it didn't take his.

Neville knew this, as soon as he saw Harry's face when he pulled the Cloak off of him. He knew he was going to walk into Death's waiting arms, even though he said no – and Harry almost would've pulled it off, this lie, were it not for the look in his eyes, and the set expression on his face, and the fact that Neville knew that Harry would never _not_ try to save everyone even if he knew it was all but superfluous.

So for all the sacrifice Harry had done, and was about to do, and for all the pain and suffering and loss he had gone through, Neville wanted to do what everyone who loved Harry wanted to do: to give something back.

And he'd gotten his chance as soon as he saw what Harry was going to do. So he pretended he didn't know at first, and said he would kill the snake like Harry had asked, and he had asked if Harry was okay. Then he told him what he'd always wanted to say, what so many people had wanted to say over the years, what he would say to his Uncle Algie the next time he saw him:

"_We're all going to keep fighting, Harry."_

It was something he wanted Harry to know. It was something Neville had to say, in case he was wrong and he wouldn't see Harry again, even though he swore on his life it would work out – Harry was there, Harry was involved, Harry always came through. It was something that meant that, when the war was over and Harry came back and they would move on, when they were faced with the uncertain future, no matter how hard and painful it was, they would be right there beside him to help him heal. They would fight for a world that was still filled with hate, murder, prejudice, and evil; they would fight for a world that had all of this, to keep it from engulfing the earth into shadow. More importantly, they would fight for a world that was filled with all this, and still had faith, love, hope, and above all, promise.

"_We're all going to keep fighting, Harry…."_

It was something that had to let Harry know that if the price of freedom from terror was his life, they would not make it in vain. They would not let it simply be labeled another blow against Voldemort. They would not let all that had been fought for be lost.

"…_.You know that?"_

More importantly, it was something that Neville knew had to be said, before the end.


End file.
